


In the Doghouse

by ThayerKerbasy



Series: A Man and His Dog [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Demon!Dean, Episode: s09e23 Do You Believe in Miracles?, Episode: s10e01 Black, Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, Gen, Hellhounds, Juliet POV, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9649403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/pseuds/ThayerKerbasy
Summary: Abbadon was dead and life in Hell was good for Juliet.  Of course, nobody in Hell is ever truly happy for very long.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dmsilvis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmsilvis/gifts).



> Thank you to grey2510 for beta reading and correcting my errant punctuation. Any errors you might spot are, of course, still mine.

Life in Hell was good for Juliet since her master had returned. She played, she hunted, and she had a seat by her master’s side, even in his throne room. Of course she had to be quiet and well-behaved while her master was working, but simply being with him was enough. Juliet didn’t like to be alone.

Hell still wasn’t running quite as it should, but her master’s return had helped. There were fewer screams now and more broken crying. Also, the pile of papers in the throne room had been dealt with. The line of angry demons outside the throne room was just as long as ever before, though.

Juliet sat near enough to the throne to see and hear everything, but far enough away to not be in anyone’s path. She wanted to sit right beside the throne so her master could pet her head, but apparently that was a bad spot to sit. Guthrie had tripped over her twice before her master ordered her to move. Personally, she thought Guthrie should have learned after tripping over her the first time.

Her master’s final order of business for the day involved sending some demons out to watch for anything on some Metatron person. He told his watchers to look for anything unusual, anything that looked like a miracle, and that Metatron would be trying to make himself look like god. Then, he yelled at them to get going, because demons weren’t very smart sometimes, or at least other demons weren’t. Juliet’s master was smarter than all of them.

Once everyone was gone, he finally patted her head and ruffled her ears and threw a bone for her to fetch a few times. Playtime was regrettably short, though. After only a few throws, her master patted her side and said, “I hope you don’t mind if we pick this up again later. Papa’s had a hard day and that chair isn’t at all comfortable.”

Well, when he put it like that, of course she could wait. Juliet could see her master’s true smoke form inside the meat he wore, infiltrating every part of it, and it looked worn down. Come to think of it, the last time Juliet had seen her master truly happy had been right after returning to Hell after getting rid of Abaddon. Even then, there had been something not quite right. Juliet was struck by a sudden desire to return to their carefree days trying to “win hearts and minds”.

Her master needed a break and she wasn’t going to stand in his way. She nudged his chest with her nose to push him towards the door. The corner of his mouth twitched up. “There’s a good girl. I’ll be back to take you hunting later, but first, Papa needs a quality massage.”

Juliet watched him go, then retired to her bed in her favourite shadowy corner. Resting was boring and lonely, but it was better than sitting up waiting. At least in her bed, she could close her eyes and relive her favourite hunts in her mind. She had no idea how long a massage should take — didn’t even know what a massage was — but she waited.

From her soft bed, the vibration of the summons was jarring. Her bond to her master let her know when he was summoned, but not to where. If he wanted her to follow, he would call for her. Until then, she would be expected to stay where he had left her and behave. Juliet was a good dog. Of course she would wait.

When he returned, the smell of mortal food clung to his clothing, along with a hint of beer/cars/gunpowder/magic Dean. Immediately, he began giving orders. “I want someone watching the Winchesters stat. Make that two, one for each in case they split up, and if you have to leave or you lose them, report in immediately. Do not lose them. However many are watching that hack Metatron pretending to be Marv, double it, half on electronic surveillance and half shadowing him. There’s going to be a showdown and I want to know who makes it out and in exactly what state. Come on, let’s go!”

Demons scurried to do his bidding. All except for one, that is. That one hesitated and asked, “Pardon, your majesty, but why should Hell care?”

Her master raised his eyebrows, but his true face was much more expressive. Juliet didn’t have names for all of the things she saw, but the demon’s words made him upset. Rather than answering right away, he used his power to pin the demon to the wall, then stalked over to them. “Why should Hell care? We’re only talking about an angel powered by the Word of God going up against the thrice damned Winchesters, the only hunters who have ever dealt with something of that magnitude. Oh, and one of them has the Mark of Cain and the First Blade, so he might actually have a shot. Why should Hell care whether or not we might have a bloody new God to deal with?”

His voice had gotten louder with each sentence until he was practically shouting in the lesser demon’s face. “Well? How the Hell did you get to be one of my operatives if you’ve got the imagination of a turnip?”

He stepped back half a step, then released the minion, who in turn bowed and apologized its way out of the room. “So sorry, I wasn’t thinking, of course you’re right, please don’t kill me.”

Rolling his eyes in a way that Juliet envied — her eyes were not meat, or even corporeal, thus couldn’t roll — her master shooed everyone out. He then rested a hand on Juliet’s head and sighed. “I’m so sorry, Juliet, but I think Papa has to go away for awhile. I’m going to make arrangements so you’re looked after, but if things go the way I think they will… Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He ruffled her fur, patted her head, then left. She followed, because she could, and because his words had bothered her. She had been a good dog. Why couldn’t she go with him? She didn’t want to stay behind. Her job was to stay with him, to protect him, to hunt his enemies and kill the ones who deserved it. She wanted to ask if he would call her when he needed her, but she couldn’t even keep his attention long enough to ask.

It soon became apparent where they were going. The smell reached Juliet’s nose long before she recognized anything about the place. The smells of meat and smoke and fur were strong and grew stronger with each step. She barely knew Hell’s kennels but the scents were imprinted in her earliest memories.

Rounding the last corner brought Juliet back to the place where she had come into being. Fires burned to create light, large rocks created shadows, and in between the light and the shadows were hellhound pups, chasing each other around the strategically placed obstacles. The light shimmered and bent around their forms; too young to manifest properly as material creatures, they would be invisible to mortal eyes. Juliet had a vague memory of being that small — or of everything else being very big — and being held. It was her first memory of physical sensation, and it was forever paired with the memory of seeing her master for the first time. The red smoke inside his meatsuit had held her, safe and secure. He had stroked her fur and scratched behind her ears and told her what a good dog she was. It was a good day.

The tiny pups dashed past her feet and together, tried to bite her tail. It was a simple matter to hold it just out of reach so they jumped and batted at empty air. She had almost forgotten the reason for their visit when a shadow fell over them. The owner of the shadow smelled like leather and bones and raw meat, and the smells of him were as familiar to her as those of the kennel. The meat he wore had not changed in all the time she could remember. The only other demon she knew who had kept a meatsuit so long was her own master.

While Juliet was lost in memories, her master had stopped. When the other demon approached, her master offered a brief, respectful nod. “Connall.”

The leather/bones/meat demon returned the gesture. “My king! And Juliet! What brings you to my kennel? Surely you’re not looking for a new pup.”

His words worried her for all of a moment before her master replied, “Of course not. Juliet is still everything I could have hoped for, and I can always borrow a hound or two if need be for larger tasks. No, Connall, what I need is someone to look after Juliet for me. If things go as I think they will, I might be topside for quite some time, and Juliet gets lonely when I’m not around.”

The demon called Connall nodded, then moved to stand before Juliet. “Well, Juliet? Your master has to go somewhere for awhile and if I guess right, it’s not a hound-friendly place. I think you’d be much happier here with me until your master gets back, but it’s up to you. What do you think?”

The choice came as such a surprise, she forgot herself and let her tail fall. Tiny teeth closed on her tail and an entire pack of pups growled playfully. Connall laughed, then detached the pups one by one. Before they could go after her tail again, he picked up a handful of bones and tossed them. “Go on, pups, go fetch!”

While the pups were distracted, Juliet thought about his offer. If she truly wasn’t allowed to go with her master, her options were limited. She could wait all alone on her bed, or she could stay with Connall and the other hounds in the kennel. Part of her didn’t want to be alone anymore, but another part of her didn’t want to think about staying with overly-playful pups until her master returned for her. She turned to face her master, tilted her head, and whined.

He always seemed to know what she meant. “If I need you, I’ll call you. I promise. Connall will take you hunting when he can, and I’ll get in touch whenever I’m able.” He turned to Connall then. “You’ve got my number. Give me yours and then I can facetime with Juliet.”

He did a thing with the little talking box he kept in his jacket pocket, then put it away again. He had the look he got when he was ready to leave but couldn’t yet. She knew she had to choose, but it was no choice at all. She offered her paw to Connall.

***

Her master did indeed have to go. He said he didn’t want to leave her, but there was an eagerness in him, subdued and hidden inside but plain to Juliet who knew his true face so well. He secretly wanted to leave and he didn’t want anyone to go with him. Inside his jacket was the magic bone knife that Juliet had tracked and guarded for him. He kept it close to him like something precious. He told Guthrie to call him if anything came up, then he left. It was no different from any other time he had gone to do business, and yet it was entirely different.

The day he left, Connall’s little box thing made music sounds (“Who let the dogs out? Who, who, who, who?”). The sounds stopped when he touched a finger to it. Juliet went back to chasing excitable pups away from her pool of shadows, but a moment later Connall approached holding up his little box thing. Her master was inside a tiny box again, but this time she could see him! Juliet leapt to her feet and barked angrily at the box, demanding her master’s release.

Her master’s words came from the box to interrupt her. “It’s alright, Juliet. It’s Papa. I’m safe, everything’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re settling in with Connall.”

The little box had no scent beyond smelling like Connall’s clothing, and her master’s true form was impossible to see properly, but the voice and the words and the appearance were that of her master. Juliet recalled the last time her master’s words had come from a little box. It turned out, that had been a way for her master to communicate with his minions, so it was most likely the same, but with the new added ability for her to see him. What a smart thing to have! Juliet decided she wanted her own talking box.

It wasn’t long before her master had to go. He said he would call again when he could, but that he would be gone for awhile. After he said goodbye, he disappeared and the box went dark. She tried nudging the box with her nose and tapping it with a paw, but he was still gone. She curled up against a large boulder and melted back into its shadow, ignoring Connall’s offer to play fetch.

Time passed, but time in Hell was a strange thing, fickle and deceptive. Time was for mortals, and neither Juliet nor the beings keeping her company were mortal. The time that passed for Hell’s tortured souls was agonizingly long and drawn out, but for Hell’s rightful inhabitants, it was just another part of the atmosphere. Eventually, though, enough time passed that even Juliet noticed.

The next time the little box sang, Juliet sprang from her hiding place and nudged Connall’s arm while he was trying to make it work. He almost dropped the box thing, so Juliet forced herself to sit and wait. He touched the thing and her master’s face appeared. Behind him was a mortal place with bright signs and dim lights. Even through the talking box, Juliet’s sharp hearing could tell there were mortals inside the place, talking and laughing. What business could her master have with mortals there? He had never taken so long to buy souls before, and she was always able to go with him for that anyway, so what was different?

The talking went much the same as before, with her master saying nice things and reassuring her that she was still a good dog. It was hard to tell without being able to see his true form, but he seemed distracted. She tilted her head and whined an inquiry, but he didn’t seem to understand, instead repeating that he would be back when he could.

Just then, the door of the mortal building opened and out came a face she recognized. Without being able to smell him, she couldn’t be sure, but the face looked like it belonged to beer/cars/gunpowder/magic Dean, and that raised all sorts of questions in her mind. What did her master need with him? Abaddon was dead, there was no need for him to help with that anymore. Had he sold his soul to her master? Why was he allowed to be there but she wasn’t?

She was never given the chance to communicate any of that. When her master heard Dean, he broke off what he was saying and instead said, “Never mind, Papa has to go now. Be good for Connall. I’ll call when I can.”

She couldn’t even answer him before his face disappeared again. There was no way to know how many days and nights had passed since he had last called, but one thing was for sure: her master was keeping his talks with her a secret from Dean. But why? If he trusted Dean, why would he keep Juliet a secret? Why couldn’t Juliet be there, too?

So many questions. At least she could still go to him if he needed her. But would he need her anymore? What if Dean had replaced her? He wasn’t a hound, but her master had been gone for so long and Dean was a “killing machine” according to him. Dean was mortal, but he smelled like very old magic. He was another puzzle, and Juliet didn’t like puzzles, but she was determined to solve this one.

***

Eventually, the pups learned not to bother Juliet when she was resting. Where they were small and awkward, she could bat their noses and nip their tails before they could turn around. When she was prepared for them, she didn’t mind indulging in their play — it was how they learned, after all — but when she was resting, she didn’t want to be disturbed, and she made sure the pups knew it. She wanted to be uninterrupted so she could try to put her puzzle together. Her last puzzle had taken a lot of thinking and investigation, and while her opportunities for investigation were limited, she could think whenever she wanted.

Dean smelled like very old magic. The magic bone knife smelled like the same very old magic. Her master had taken the magic bone knife with him when he left. Had the knife been a gift for Dean? She was getting back into questions with no answers again.

Connall took Juliet hunting whenever there was prey to hunt. She did as she was told, properly terrifying her prey before killing it, then taking the glowing soul to Hell, but it wasn’t the same without her master there. She took every opportunity to hunt for his scent while in the material realm, just to make sure he was still there, and thankfully he was. It would have been no trouble to track him. Anyone else would have been unable to follow him, but Juliet would always be able to follow him anywhere. She was his dog and had been since the moment he had chosen her. For the first time, she wasn’t sure what would happen if she did.

As far as she could tell, he was in the same place every time, or close enough to it. Dean and the knife were in the same direction too. If she had felt like disobeying Connall to go to her master, she could have.

The wind shifted direction and ruffled her fur. Juliet sought out another scent. Her master had made his choice, and so too had she. When she showed Connall the soul held tightly between her jaws, he offered her a congratulatory pat, and she allowed it.

It seemed like an eternity before Connall’s little box thing sang again. When it did, Juliet stayed where she was, curled up in the darkest shadow she could find. Connall was the one to go to her, the little box looking so tiny in his hands. “Juliet? Juliet, your Papa’s on the phone waiting to talk to you.”

She didn’t get up, didn’t so much as move. No way did she want her master to think everything was fine and that he could go away whenever he wanted to. Why couldn’t she have gone, too? She wouldn’t have cared if Dean was there, too. He probably even knew how to throw bones for her to fetch. The three of them could have gone hunting together.

The “phone” was held in front of her and her master’s face was on it. Without scent or a clear view of his true form, it was still too hard to get a good read on him. His meatsuit was probably expressing all sorts of things, but Juliet had never learned how to read those things. All she had were his words.

Her master breathed in and out, even though he didn’t need air, then smiled a small, thin-lipped smile. “Hello Juliet. I know the past few weeks have been hard on you, and for that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be gone for much longer. I just have one more thing to wrap up here, and then I’ll be back to pick you up. We can do whatever you want. Alright?”

She should have been delighted to hear he would be back soon. Instead, she felt… empty. There was still another thing for him to do, so he wasn’t done yet, and that thing might even lead to another thing. There was nothing to celebrate in his words. With a soft whine, Juliet nosed the little box and licked Connall’s hand, then let her head fall back between her paws.

When the pups tired of waiting for her to get up, they climbed atop her and nipped at her ears and tail. Resisting would have been too much of an effort, so she didn’t bother. They might have kept at it all day had Connall not chased them off. Growling and yipping at each other, the pups took to playfully attacking each other instead of Juliet.

With the pups diverted, Connall rested a hand on her head and gently stroked her fur. He knew all the best places to pet, knew when to rub and when to scratch and even when to stop. She should have been happy, but she wasn’t. He would never be as good as her master, even if he was sometimes better than her master.

The hand on her head stilled. “Poor girl. I know. I was afraid this would happen. He should have brought you with him, or at least called for you a few times. He forgets, sometimes, that you were made for single-minded devotion, because he was not. He’s gone and done something foolish and all of Hell knows about it. You ‘hounds are better creatures than we demons, I think. You’re welcome to stay here with me when he returns, but I don’t think that would make you happy.”

As usual, Connall was probably right. Nothing in the kennel had made her happy so far, not even having a constant, attentive demon willing to play whenever she wanted. Certainly not the now much bigger hound pups who had recently learned how to climb atop the smaller rocks and jump down onto each other and, when they dared, onto Juliet. No, it was likely she would be empty forever. With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and went back to puzzling over the mystery of Dean and her master and the magic bone knife. She was missing pieces and couldn’t go out to find them, so she kept prodding at the holes in the hopes of stumbling into a solution.

Time passed in Hell in its strangely distorted way, with nothing to differentiate night from day or to track the passage of time at all. Juliet had once thought of time as a mortal thing, but without it there was no way to know how long her master had been gone or when he might return. She was no closer to solving her puzzle and was beginning to think she never would. It didn’t matter, of course. Solving the puzzle wouldn’t tell her if her master would come back, it would only tell her why he had left.

And then, out of nowhere, with no warning whatsoever, her master was back. She felt him before she saw him, his presence suddenly nearby where before it had been vaguely elsewhere. His scent was next, the combination of smoke and Scotch and magic overlaid with all the smells she had come to associate with Dean, but the smell of ancient magic was so much more than before.

He rounded the corner and she was able to see him at last. On the surface, nothing had changed while he had been gone. His clothing, his hair, his face, everything looked the same. Underneath all that, though, his true form told the real story. His meat face lied and said everything was fine while his true face was mourning the loss of something. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place, and she thought maybe she finally understood.

Juliet was torn. Every instinct told her to go to her master and comfort him, but she felt betrayed. She had been left in the care of another demon, handed over as if any demon could be a substitute for her master, not even trusted enough to be told why he had left. She had been a chew toy for hound pups and had been forced to learn the value of linear time. She was in no mood for forgiveness. Fighting against her instincts, Juliet stood and carefully walked over to Connall where she nudged her head under his hand until he petted her.

The effect on her master was instantaneous. He closed his eyes, his lips thinning as his entire meatsuit slumped. When he looked up, his eyes met Juliet’s and even she could read the hurt there. As much as she could see from his meat face, his true form was a revelation. Hurt and betrayal swirled with guilt, flashes of anger illuminated regret, and it was all tied together with the depths of his feelings for her and Dean. The strength of his emotions was surprising; demons weren’t supposed to feel so deeply. He cared about her and he cared about Dean, both in different ways, but the affection was there regardless. Of course now he felt abandoned by them both, and the pain of it tested Juliet’s resolve, but she was determined to make her master understand that she was not to be left behind.

Her master held out his arms to welcome her, should she rush to him as she usually did. His face did the smile thing that usually meant good things, but she could see beyond the false cheer to the true feelings that hadn’t changed. “Juliet?” he said. “Come to Papa.”

She wanted to run to him so badly, to hunt by his side and be his good dog. With a whimper, she lay down beside Connall and rested her head upon his foot. Connall, bless his black heart, understood immediately. “Apologies, Sire. You have been gone long, and ‘hounds never take well to that. I believe your best course of action may be to show Juliet that you have no intention to abandon her. Keep her with you at all times.”

Nodding once, her master replied, “Of course. Thank you, Connall. As always, your gifts are underappreciated. Keep up the good work.”

Connall gave a respectful nod of acknowledgement, then hesitated before adding, “Sire? One last thing. Hellhounds are more intelligent than mortal dogs, as you are aware. I’ve spent centuries honing my knowledge to become the expert I am. Your Juliet is smarter than most, a trait no doubt encouraged by her master. Just… don’t underestimate her, Your Majesty.”

Her master’s nod this time was one of calculated thought. “Noted. Juliet, stay upset as long as you need, but I’m going now. Will you be leaving with me?”

Well, that was a good start, but he wasn’t getting out of it that easily. Juliet stood and licked Connall’s hand, then walked past her master, leaving the kennel without him. She didn’t stop to make sure he was following, but kept walking towards home on her own. Travelling through shadow would have been much quicker, but she needed her master to see her going home without him.

There was amusement in Connall’s voice as he called after them, “Good luck, Sire!”

***

Though Juliet refrained from demonstrating any of the affection she felt, her master kept her by his side. For the most part, he stayed in the throne room, dealing with all of the little things that kept Hell running smoothly, which had built up while he was gone. The paper was piled high and the line of angry demons outside was long. Her bed was placed directly beside his throne, even though she refused to let him pet her. Guthrie was told to avoid the spot entirely if he didn’t want to lose his leg.

From her position beside the throne, Juliet was in the perfect position to see how her master had changed. Where he had once read everything thoroughly before signing it, now he only skimmed the documents placed before him. The demons brought to him for judgement were all pronounced guilty and sentenced to death. Any grievances or new business was pronounced not worth his time, but when he was not being asked to rule, her master stared off into space, lost in thought.

One demon had tried to tempt her master out of his own head by offering… something to do with ladies, classic rock and roll, and debauching? He had mentioned something called a sabbatical with “the older Winchester”. It was all very confusing. Her master had played along for a bit, then reduced the demon to smoke and ash. So even though he was distracted, he had not lost his vicious nature. Juliet approved.

Some time later, her master was ordering the deaths of demons who had sided with Abbadon — something Juliet was in full support of — but his heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t even bother to say the complicated words, he kept skipping the big ones. He was acting nothing like the master she was used to. Another demon was so upset by her master’s odd behaviour, it turned itself into holy fire. That seemed to get through to him, at least a little.

Mortals might have said Hell had gone to the dogs, but if it had, Hell would have been running better than it was. Mourning or not, Juliet couldn’t believe her master could have let things fall apart so badly. When Guthrie returned, he approached the throne — staying well clear of Juliet’s place by her master’s side — to report an attack upon the angel Castiel and suggested that it would be the perfect time for their king to dispose of him once and for all.

Her master replied, “I’ll take care of it myself. Thank you, Guthrie. Job well done.” Raising his voice, he addressed the room. “Audiences are cancelled until I return.”

No matter how angry she was with him, there was no way Juliet was going to let him out of her sight. She stood at the same time as her master to find him looking expectantly at her. “Time to head up topside, Jules. Let’s go for a little walk, shall we?”

He still hadn’t apologized for leaving her behind before, but it was a step in the right direction. She fully intended to pull the same trick as before — leaving first and making him follow — but once she shifted into the shadows, she realized she didn’t know where to go besides somewhere in the mortal realm. Snarling softly at her mistake, she waited for her master to travel, then followed her tie to him.

They emerged from the shadows in a wide open place with lots of trees and grass and a single building beside a road. It would have been a wonderful place to play if it weren’t for the things outside the building that smelled like the insides of cars. Juliet wrinkled her nose and snorted, but the smell remained. Thankfully it wasn’t able to mask the other smells in the area. Juliet could smell one dead body and two angels (sunshine and magic and that smell before it rains). Wait, no, three angels. Maybe? One of the maybe angels smelled different, like sunshine and magic and mortal human.

Her master observed the situation, his eyes tracking the angels as one outside hit the strange not-quite-mortal one. When the yellow-haired one went inside, her master got her attention. “Juliet, I’d appreciate it if you could patrol for me, please. Keep watch and alert me if anyone approaches.”

It was tempting to decline, but he had asked nicely and he hadn’t told her to sit and wait, so that was something. She decided to obey, for now. Setting up a wide perimeter to patrol, Juliet stalked the shadows in search of prey while her master approached the not-quite-angel outside. If she were mortal, she would have been out of earshot, but she was a highly-trained ‘hound with no compunctions about monitoring her master’s safety.

Her master looked down at the familiar-seeming angel-man and said, “Hey champ. Look at you. Talk about roadkill.”

The angel-man wasn’t roadkill. He had been hurt by the yellow-haired angel’s hands, but wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t on the road either. Juliet was concerned that her master might have forgotten how words worked.

After looking over the angel-man, her master left him and went into the building. Not being able to see him was a bit of a concern, but she was close enough to reach him if something went wrong. In any case, he wasn’t inside for long before he returned holding a glowing blue bottle. He knelt by the angel-man’s side and poured the bright blue stuff for angel-man to drink, telling him, “Don’t be an idiot. Yes, it’s hers, but she was killing your girlfriend. Your hands are clean. Much as it pains me to say this, you’re useless to me dead.”

Juliet had no time to think about his words before the angel-man began to glow, a bright blue glow from inside that smelled like everything angel. The other living angel joined them outside to watch silently. By the time the angel-man stopped glowing, he smelled mostly angel again, with only tiny traces of man. Juliet was confused. The report from Guthrie had said an angel named Castiel was weak and being attacked and that her master should kill him. The only angel that her master had killed was the one doing the attacking. He had made the weak one (Castiel?) stronger again.

The angel-man was done glowing, so her master opened his eyes and said, “ _You_ owe me.”

Well, that sounded more like her master, at least. He never killed anyone who was worth keeping around. While Juliet didn’t know any angels who would deal with demons, there had been rumours of one before she had come into being. An angel who had worked with her master to do great and terrible things. What was its name again? Oh! That explained a lot.

Castiel(?) stood up and gruffly asked, “Why did you help me?”

Her master immediately replied, “Purely business. Since you’re five miles away from the Winchesters’ clubhouse, I can only surmise that you’re headed there and that Dean has become a handful. Having him as a demon has caused me nothing but grief. Fix the problem.”

_Oh._ The last piece of Juliet’s puzzle slotted into place. Dean wasn’t dead, he was a demon. Her master genuinely liked Dean and enjoyed spending time with him (without Juliet) but he didn’t like demons. Privately, Juliet thought that her master would have been happier if he wasn’t the King of Hell, but that wasn’t up to her. She wondered how Dean had managed to become a demon without her hearing of it. Had he not spent time in the torture chambers?

While Juliet was processing that revelation, Castiel(?) said, “You realize, worse comes to worst, that means killing him?”

To which her master responded, “I’m not sentimental.”

The lie in his words was so easy to see for one who could see his true form. Juliet wondered if the angels could see it, too. She wasn’t given the chance to find out because her master left then, clearly expecting her to follow, which she did, but only because she wanted a quiet place to think things over.

Her master reappeared in his office and immediately poured himself a glass of Scotch. Juliet made a brief stop at the throne room to pick up her bed, then curled up on it in the corner of his office. After confirming that she meant to stay, her master pulled out his “phone” thing and looked at it. She waited for a few minutes, then crept over to look. There were pictures on the “phone” of him and Dean and some with other people as well, but everyone in the pictures had a smile. The glass of Scotch didn’t last for very long, which was unusual. Normally, he took his time with it, but he didn’t even wait before refilling his glass this time.

Juliet looked at her master again. He had been abandoned, too. He missed Dean sort of like she had missed her master, but she had her master back. Dean was a demon and the angel-man was going to maybe kill him. If that happened, Dean would never come back to her master again. Even if the angel-man didn’t kill Dean, it didn’t matter because Dean was still a demon, and there was something about most demons that her master really didn’t like.

In the end, it was a simple decision. Juliet licked her master’s cheek, then rested her head on his arm. Her master set down his Scotch and scratched behind her ears. A little while later, he set the “phone” down, too, so he could pet her with both hands. Then he finally said what she had been waiting to hear. “I’m sorry I left you behind. I thought… never mind, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have stayed away for so long.”

That was all she had wanted. Forgiveness came easily, and she dashed off, returning with a bone that she dropped at his feet. His lips twitched upward slightly as he picked up the bone and teleported it away for her to track and retrieve. She spared a moment to wish she could have gone hunting with both her master and Dean. For some reason, she thought he seemed like he would have been good at hunting.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to Dmsilvis (@dmsilvisart on Tumblr) for the absolutely gorgeous artwork! I've never received fan art before and it's an incredible feeling. I immediately knew I had to share it with my wonderful readers here. If you're on Tumblr, go show this magnificent artist some love.
> 
> I'll be working on the seventh installment of The Misadventures of Growley and Squirrel next, then likely more Juliet. I have no idea how long it will take me to write any of it, so if you're not following me on Tumblr, I suppose I'd recommend subscribing to me or to the series if you want to be notified when I post again.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this. If you made it this far, I hope you'll consider leaving me a comment/kudos to let me know what you thought. Your words help my words to flow. And as always, if you're on Tumblr and feel like watching me struggle with words, you can follow @thayerkerbasy


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